


The Nature of Perfection

by lori (zakhad), zakhad



Series: Captain and Counselor [37]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coda, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/lori, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/zakhad
Summary: The search for perfection takes many forms, but sometimes the journey involves unexpected turns.





	

**Author's Note:**

> An episode coda that fits in an alternate universe series. Reference: Season 5, episode 13, The Masterpiece Society.
> 
> Comes after Famous First Words in the Captain and Counselor series.

"The Moab sector," Picard echoed, wondering why that sounded so familiar. 

Admiral Nelson nodded jovially on the viewer. "You'll be assisting the colony there with repairs to their habitat dome. I’ve forwarded their distress call to you. They are appealing to the Federation for help only because the damage caused by the asteroid strike is beyond their ability to repair -- they were already experiencing malfunctions in their defense grid, which is why the meteor shower cause the damage in the first place. When you arrive you'll contact them on the frequency provided -- they're expecting you." 

That was enough information to fill in the blank -- Picard sighed heavily. "Surely there are vessels closer at hand than we are, Admiral." 

"We did mention this when we contacted them in response to the distress call. Apparently, you had some dealings with them in the past, and they are quite insular. They asked for the Enterprise specifically, because they want to minimize contact." Nelson smiled placidly, his salt-and-pepper goatee bobbing a little. This admiral had something going on where his chin appeared to be in constant motion.

“All right. High warp, then, and we’ll contact them the minute we’re in range.”

“Excellent -- thank you, Captain. Nelson, out.” 

Picard rose from his chair, gave his jacket a yank, strode out of the ready room onto the bridge, and looked to the helm. “Mr. Graves, best possible speed to the Moab sector.”

“Aye, sir,” the young man exclaimed as he turned his attention to his console and bounced his fingers around. “Warp eight. Estimated time of arrival, fifteen hours.”

“Good. Mr. Carlisle, please get your department ready to assist Mr. LaForge in the repair of a habitat dome -- you’ll find records of it in the computer if you access mission logs regarding Moab Four.” Picard turned to head up the bridge to the lift, leaving Carlisle in command. “Carry on. I will be back -- there will be a briefing in four hours.”

“Aye, sir.”

Traveling to their next destination didn’t require him to be on the bridge, so he headed for his quarters. He strode in to find that Deanna had fallen asleep on the couch. She was wearing a pair of calf-length, forest green pants and a white sleeveless shirt. Formerly white, anyway -- the front of it had a stain, the likely cause of which was no doubt the naked child sleeping in front of her, with her arm tucked around him. 

He realized as he was about to turn away to the replicator that she’d awakened -- her eyelids fluttered, and her head moved. She sat up very, very slowly, so as not to disturb the baby, and rubbed her eye wearily. 

“How is he?” Picard asked, moving around the coffee table to sit near her -- too close and he might wake Yves. 

“Still throwing up, but less often. The doctor said he’ll probably be better by dinner. This is the third virus in a month, I wish the other parents would stop sending their children to the nursery sick,” she murmured, pushing her hair back over her shoulders with both hands. 

“How are you?”

“I wish I could say I felt better. Are we arriving?”

“I’m afraid we’ve been diverted. We won’t be seeing Moran Six any time soon. We’re on the way to the Moab system.”

Deanna stared at him, and he waited for her to say something with a knot in his stomach. Her lips twitched at long last, into a sad little smile. “I assume it’s an emergency of some kind?”

“Yes. Apparently they are suffering a catastrophic failure of their habitat -- they have emergency force fields maintaining their atmosphere, but are unable to effect repairs. There were a number of lives lost in the attempt to repair and their power grid is impaired as well. We’re on the way at high warp and due in fifteen hours -- I may have us go to warp nine to shorten that.”

Deanna turned to look at Yves, sleeping on his belly with his arm dangling down the front of the couch. She gazed at him with an expression of love and tenderness that brought a smile to Picard’s face -- she turned back to him, and her smile continued, her left hand drifted up to his face, and she leaned to brush her dry lips against his. 

Picard put his arms around his wife and kissed her. He let her pull away, ran his hands from her shoulders down her arms to hold her hands. She sighed, looking down at the blotchy stain on her chest. “I should go change. Are you going back to the bridge?”

“For the briefing, in four hours. I wanted to check on you. It’s past lunch time, have you had anything?”

“I’ve been asleep for a while. Why don’t you get us something while I change?”

Yves was still asleep as they sat down to eat together, and Picard watched her sip soup from a spoon. She hadn’t put on a uniform; she’d pulled on a green and gray sweater instead, meaning the normal ambient temperature was feeling cold to her.

“You aren’t feeling too great either, are you?”

“I had the doctor give me what he could to help, and I’m fighting it, but I think it’s a lost cause. I hope you don’t get it as well.”

“Well, there are reasons we have a chain of command. If we’re both down sick the mission will go on.” Picard took a bite of his sandwich, washed it down with water, and watched her take another slow spoonful of soup in. “Mr. Carlisle will be capable of handling the entire thing, I’m sure.”

Deanna put down her spoon and stared at him. 

“What?”

“You realize that you have absolutely nothing to worry about, I think, so I’m not sure why all of a sudden you are concerned.”

“I was simply saying that if both of us are incapacitated by the virus, he’s perfectly capable.“

Deanna smiled, clearly amused by his assertion. “You were really looking forward to some leave, and now you look forward to avoiding contact with Aaron Connor. I wasn’t actually in love with him, you realize.”

He chewed slowly and it didn’t help -- there were still no good responses to that, even after the stalling. “You aren’t anxious at all, about seeing him again.”

“I didn’t say that. But I’m less anxious than you were about having Nella aboard.”

“Oh, touche,” he muttered.

Yves whimpered, wriggled, and slid off the edge of the couch to the floor. He sat up, used the couch to haul himself upright, and wobbled over on his feet to the table -- they watched him approach with surprise. “Papa,” he pleaded, holding up his hands as he reached Picard’s chair.

“He’s walking,” Picard exclaimed, grinning at his son. “When did this happen?” He picked Yves up and the little boy curled up against his chest, happy to be in his father’s arms.

“That was the first time he’s taken more than a few steps -- is he still feverish?”

Picard stroked the fine black curls as he felt the little forehead with his palm. “Perhaps a little warmer than usual. I think he’s falling asleep again.” A little hand managed to find a grip on the front of his uniform jacket, and Yves turned his head to nuzzle and drool as his eyes closed. 

Deanna watched them with a happy, fond smile. “I guess that means you’re on the hook, and I can take a nap.”

“I think a diaper is in order.”

Yves whimpered a little as he was carried into the nursery, and woke again to whine about being placed on the changing table and diapered. He resettled in his father’s arms and went back to sleep as Picard settled in the rocking chair. At thirteen months, the chubby short arms and legs were starting to be less chubby and short, and the round cheeks were less so. Their little boy would be a bigger boy soon.

“Jean?”

He looked up to find Deanna standing in the door; she came in and leaned down to touch the back of her hand to Yves’ forehead. 

“I thought you were going to take a nap.”

“You’re thinking broody thoughts. Everything all right?”

“I was just contemplating the nature of little boys, becoming bigger boys, and the strange way time flows -- some days I think pass too slowly, and then I turn around and find things have changed.”

“Hm. Welcome to parenthood.” Deanna caressed his face, his head, and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I’m going to bed now. Wake me half an hour before the briefing?”

“Of course. Sleep well, cygne.” He watched her go, and smiled down at the child in his arms. It was, he reflected, not at all what he had anticipated -- having a child was stressful at times, especially when Yves was fussy or upset, but even that became easier as time went by. The joys outweighed the pain. 

Yves made a burbling noise, yawned and pushed his face against Picard’s jacket. There was a tense moment of waiting -- was this the precursor to another bout of vomiting? But the toddler subsided and went back to sleep after spreading a tiny bit of drool on the black fabric. 

“Fortune favors the brave,” Picard muttered. He briefly considered putting Yves in the crib, but they had learned early that if he felt sick, their little boy would only settle if one of them was holding him. Humming an old song he remembered his mother singing, Picard rocked gently in the chair and let his son sleep on.

\--------------------

Deanna smiled as she awakened to stretch and sit up, and headed out into the living room barefoot to find her husband happily encouraging Yves, now wearing a little red jumpsuit, to walk around. It looked like the virus was a thing of the past -- Yves was holding his father’s thumbs and taking slow steps in front of him, arms stretched upward, stopping every few steps to grin up at Papa, who leaned down to stabilize him. Jean-Luc grabbed Yves by the waist and swung him upward, holding him against his chest, and Yves giggled madly as he was carried over to greet her. 

“So nice to see you so happy, Yves,” she said with a grin. She took him into her arms and felt his face. “How does Papa feel?”

“I’m fine. I was about to come wake you up -- we’ll both want to change for the meeting. Lieutenant Knudson is on his way to babysit for the afternoon.”

“I’ll just take a shower then -- sweet little man,” Deanna said, kissing Yves’ forehead. “You have fun with Papa for a minute, hm? I’ll be right back.”

But Yves wasn’t having it -- when he started to cry at losing his mama Jean-Luc brought him to the bathroom and let him sit in the floor of the bathtub, where he babbled and listened to his own voice echoing while she took a short sonic shower. She dressed swiftly in uniform, and held Yves while Jean-Luc changed out the jacket for a clean one, minus baby spit, and Lieutenant Knudson arrived just seconds after they emerged from the bedroom. 

“Hi, kiddo,” the broad-shouldered young man boomed out as he took the baby. Yves was fascinated by the new face and gave the smiling officer an ineffective slap on the cheek. Knudson was from security, and they’d been surprised by his volunteering to babysit, but it turned out he was one of eight siblings and used to handling little children. 

“Thank you for being willing to spend the afternoon with him,” Deanna said. “He’s finally over the virus, we think. And he’s starting to walk a little too.”

“That’s great,” Knudson exclaimed, grinning at Yves, holding him in the crook of his muscular arm like a pro while the wiggly little boy grinned and giggled, and tried to pull apart the collar of his jacket. He noticed Deanna watching them intently. “He’s in good hands, Commander, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”

Deanna followed her captain out with a little reluctance, which she’d thought was not obvious, but as they entered the lift he glanced at her. “He’ll be fine, Dee.”

“I know. That doesn’t help.”

“Knudson has fifteen little nieces and nephews, and the pictures to prove he’s helped his sisters with all of them.”

“Jean,” she chided. “That’s still not going to help.” He knew better than to expect her to be reassured by his rational assessments, but she loved him for trying just the same.

“All right, all right. We have a new ETA, by the way. We’ll be there in an hour -- I had them increase speed while you were sleeping.”

The door opened onto the bridge, and as they marched for the observation lounge the rest of the senior officers left their stations on the bridge to follow them in. Geordi looked grim, and Ward Carlisle wasn’t smiling either. Dr. Mengis came in last, and then they were all seated and looking to the captain, at his usual spot at the head of the table.

“Has there been any further communication with them?” 

Ward sighed. “No, sir. But part of their message said that they were shutting down non-critical systems, to divert power to the force fields.”

“I have my staff ready and we’ve busted out the EVA equipment, loaded up shuttles, replicated the major parts that they already told us were in need of replacement -- I have portable generators and other equipment at the ready near the cargo transporters,” Geordi exclaimed. “We’ll have people on site and working in no time.”

“I have operations staff briefed and organized in teams,” Ward said. “Mr. Connor’s message stated that there was a significant amount of debris present so we have teams to address clearing away rubble, and teams ready to assist the engineering staff in effecting repairs.”

“We’ve been to Moab Four, before,” Jean-Luc said. “This is an insular community of people who migrated from Earth more than two centuries ago, and used genetic engineering to build a tailor-made community -- the individuals within the habitat do not want interference from without. When we were there, helping them with addressing the oncoming threat of a stellar core fragment approaching the planet, our mere presence caused a disruption -- twenty-three of their population opted to depart with us, which has no doubt had a drastic effect on their society. They may have restored order since, or things may have changed. What we know is what we’ve been told by the admiral, and the message they sent, nothing more. There’s been no contact with the colony until they sent the distress call yesterday and Starfleet received it this morning. My plan, given what we know from the first time we visited, is to make the repairs with no contact whatsoever with the population. The commander and I will be the only points of contact with them.”

“If there are medical needs,” Dr. Mengis began, but Jean-Luc waved the rest away.

“Other staff may be needed, but we’ll provide such things only when requested. We are avoiding interference -- they need help repairing the habitat. They haven’t requested anything else.”

“What is it, Lieutenant?” Deanna asked, noticing Natalia anxiously shifting in her seat.

“I thought genetic engineering was against the law,” Natalia said.

“Federation boundaries may have expanded to include this sector, but the colonists on Moab Four have never expressed an interest in joining the Federation. Quite the opposite,” Deanna said. “That will likely become a topic of conversation during this visit.”

“Of course, if they did become part of the Federation, they’d have to stop the genetic engineering, let things happen naturally,” Geordi said. “But I suspect they wouldn’t do that.”

“Any questions or concerns, regarding the mission?” Jean-Luc said, with the clipped tones of the captain wanting to get back to work.

“No, sir,” was the muttered answer from several around the table. He dismissed them, and most officers departed; Davidson lingered in his seat at the other end of the table until Deanna and Jean-Luc were the only ones left.

“Commander, do you have some time to talk to me?” 

Deanna shot a glance at Jean-Luc. He stood and gestured at the door. “I’ll be in my ready room, Commander. After you’re done.”

Ben Davidson moved closer after the door closed behind Jean-Luc, sat next to her, and gave her an apologetic smile. “I need your advice about something.”

“Oh, I’m almost afraid to ask,” Deanna said, bemused by the mixture of embarrassment and anxiety he was feeling. 

“I was going to ask Kara to come with me to the big party, but I’m not sure if you’re including plus ones or if it’s just the senior staff,” he said, blushing. 

“Of course you can bring someone! Ward is bringing Cecily, after all, and I think Nat might be bringing Troy, and I’m guessing Geordi might bring someone as well.” She paused. “Kara Lovelace? From operations?”

“It’s not what you think, we’re just friends,” he exclaimed, proving that he was going to be trying to make it more than that even if it were true.

“Well, here’s hoping this mission goes smoothly and we have the party on schedule. We might even be able to get to Risa, after the crisis is over, and have it there. Oh -- thank you for reminding me, I’ll need to contact the resort on Moran and cancel the reservation.”

“Okay, thanks. See you later. I guess I should get to my next appointment, I’m late.” Ben jumped up and hurried from the room. 

Deanna composed herself so she wouldn’t have to explain the surprise party to the guest of honor, and strode across the bridge to the ready room. Jean-Luc already had a cup of tea waiting for her on the leading edge of his desk. 

“I hope you don’t mind chamomile, I thought it might be easier on the stomach,” he said.

“Thank you. I may have fought it off, it doesn’t feel so bad at the moment.” She picked up the steaming cup. “The virus may be an issue, if we’re meeting with the colonists in person, you know.”

“You don’t think their advanced genome is up to the task of fighting it off?”

She sighed heavily, trying to remember the details of their long-ago visit, and what Aaron had told her about the modifications his people had made. There hadn’t been much opportunity for her to process this situation -- she’d been so tired that she had fallen asleep without delay, when given the chance. Taking care of Yves most of the night and morning had been exhausting.

“I can’t say that I know, any more. I suppose we’ll wait and see. Perhaps this time we should make the case to Aaron that if we want to speak face to face, he should come to the ship, instead of having us in their habitat.”

“That may be wise.” He smiled grimly. “Although I find myself hoping that we don’t have to deal with any of them at all. I wonder at times about the twenty three people that left Moab Four with us, so long ago. What happened to them after we sent them along on a transport to Earth.”

“I wonder if any of them came back,” Deanna said. “Perhaps we’ll find out. After the crisis, I think I’ll send messages and follow up with them.”

“How do you feel about seeing him again?”

“The anxiety has more to do with how he might feel about me, I think. Nothing will change how I feel about you, Jean-Luc, it’s more about having to face him, and potentially to reject him. I hope he’s moved on.”

Jean-Luc had one of his inscrutable expressions, as he sipped Earl Grey and glanced at his monitor. He set down his cup suddenly, rising. “We’ve dropped out of warp.”

She put her cup on the desk as well and followed him back out on the bridge. Natalia had taken the helm after the meeting, and Ward displaced the lieutenant at ops as Jean-Luc went to his seat in the center of the bridge. 

“Report,” Deanna exclaimed, glancing at deLio as she went to her own chair.

“Hailing on the specified frequency -- they are responding, sir.”

“Let’s hear it,” Jean-Luc exclaimed. “Put it on the screen.”

“No visual -- I’m opening a channel.” 

The voice that came through was, of course, Aaron’s. “Captain, thank you for coming. My apologies for the lack of a visual connection, our systems are compromised.”

Jean-Luc gestured at Ward, and he left ops -- he and Geordi met behind deLio and went into the lift. “I’m sending teams down to address the breach in the dome immediately, Mr. Connor. We’ll make this as swift and painless as we can -- I realize that you will want to minimize contact with your people.”

“Actually, Captain, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to come aboard and speak to you -- we appreciate all your assistance in this matter.”

Deanna did a double take at that, glanced at Jean-Luc -- he was surprised as well. “My first officer will meet you in the transporter room.”

“Thank you, Captain.” 

Deanna was in motion before they finished with sorting out transporter coordinates, in the lift, and by the time she entered transporter room one, the attendant was beaming Aaron Connor aboard.

He was older, and looked it -- and more than that, he was somewhat disheveled, though that could be a result of being under pressure in a failing habitat. He’d grown a mustache, and had stubble. When he saw her he smiled brilliantly.

“Mr. Connor,” she said pleasantly. “Welcome aboard. Come with me, please?”

The brilliant smile dimmed somewhat, but he followed along as she left the room. In the corridor he drew alongside and kept looking her up and down. “It’s good to see you, Deanna.”

“I wish it were under better circumstances. It sounds as though we need to act very quickly.”

“Did you get the original transmission? I tried to provide everything, all that we had on the breach in the dome, the damage to our power grid -- “

Deanna touched his arm as they came to a halt in front of the lift. “It’s all right, Aaron, we’ve mobilized shuttles and crews, we’ll have it fixed as quickly as possible. Come to the bridge. We’ll show you.”

“Deanna,” he said, as if calling to her from a distance -- though he was almost mumbling. 

She turned and went into the turbolift, to turn and face the door. He followed her in, bemused. “Bridge,” she said crisply.

Aaron studied her as the lift went into motion. She knew he was disappointed, in her resistance to what he was trying to do. It was obvious that he’d hoped and wanted what she had feared he would -- but it wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be, to face it. Aaron did not feel the same; seeing her, he hadn’t felt the intense attraction he’d felt before, and it occurred to her that he must have expected it to return once they were together.

“Knudson to Troi,” came a summons accompanied by a familiar shrieking. She’d been aware, all this while, that Yves was becoming increasingly ill at ease. She knew he was wanting the comfort of a parent, felt it tugging at her through the bond, and sighed. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Lieutenant, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed over the crying of the baby.

“Understood,” Knudson replied with the stalwart determination of a soldier. “Knudson out.”

Aaron looked up from the floor at her again, with awe. “You have a child.”

“He’s just a year old. He’s been ill, he still feels restless and wants me to stay with him.”

“Are you married then?”

“Yes. Are you?”

He smiled sadly. “My focus has been on the colony. After the Enterprise departed with the twenty-three who left us, it became very difficult -- we struggled to fill the gap, and eventually our maintenance of the habitat became sporadic. People were moving from one job to the other, it was chaos, just as we predicted. We could not keep enough people involved in repairing the dome. Eventually it stabilized… we were still understaffed, in maintenance, but it seemed to be better. Then the meteors came falling out of the sky and we quickly realized how many gaps we’d had in our inspection schedule.”

The door opened on the bridge. Jean-Luc turned his head to watch them approach, to stand with him. “Sir,” Deanna said. “Mr. Connor.”

“Welcome aboard,” Jean-Luc said, holding a hand out to shake Aaron’s. “I’m sorry that we are meeting again in such dire circumstance. We’re getting a visual from one of the shuttles we dispatched to survey the outside of your habitat.” He gestured at the main viewscreen, and Deanna turned and gasped. The viewer showed a network of cracks on the shining outer surface of the dome.

“We’re finishing a more in depth survey,” Geordi’s voice came over an open channel, “but it’s not looking promising. Sir, I’m afraid I have to recommend evacuation. There’s too much damage -- we can try, but it doesn’t look like the surface is repairable. Millions of micro-fractures in it, beyond what’s visible. It’s getting worse every second, it’ll go any time now. We got here just in time, the dome is on the verge of a complete collapse.”

Aaron was staring at the screen open-mouthed. “That’s far beyond what we… Captain, this is unthinkable,” he gasped. 

“We have to evacuate them,” Jean-Luc said urgently. “deLio, all transporters -- “

“This is -- impossible!”

“Aaron,” Deanna put in softly. “Save them from themselves. They can adapt. Either we’ll restore the habitat or we can find a habitable world where you won’t have to try to maintain an artificial habitat. Please let us save them.”

He stared again at the visible cracks on the screen. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. 

Jean-Luc gave the order, and the crew went to work -- around him the back and forth between the captain and the bridge crew went on unheard by their guest, as Aaron stared at the dark gray carpet of the bridge, once the viewer went dark. There were almost a thousand people in the colony -- Deanna was shocked by that, as there had been more, before. It simplified the evacuation, however. The shuttles were also pressed into service transporting people, as the dome started to crumble and lose atmosphere at an alarming rate. 

“Let me take you to your people,” Deanna said quietly, touching his arm. “They will need your reassurance.” 

Aaron ignored her. Even closed his eyes, as the lieutenant at ops informed them that the force fields were completely disabled now.

“There are fifty-two left in the habitat,” deLio announced. “We are transporting twenty-four using the cargo transporter… the counselors are already working to get people calmed and taking them to quarters, the sickbay staff as well.” A moment later, he spoke again. “We have transported the remaining people out of the habitat -- there are several injured, transporter room two is sending them to sickbay immediately.”

“Mr. Connor,” the captain said quietly. It was what finally broke him out of the trance he’d fallen into. Aaron turned to Jean-Luc, and then his head swiveled to Deanna -- tears were streaming down his face. No need for empathy, his complete despair was visible in his face.

“Captain,” Geordi said at last over the open channel, quiet and sober. “We’ve just witnessed the total collapse of the dome. All shuttles are returning to the Enterprise now.”

“Acknowledged,” Jean-Luc exclaimed. His expression grim, he put a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “Mr. Connor, I’m sorry.”

“I am -- “ The strangled words stopped, and Aaron shut his eyes for a moment. Remarkably, he took a breath and then the anguish abated somewhat. “I am grateful, Captain, for your prompt response to us -- thank you, for saving our lives. Although it is hard to see what will become of us, now. Especially if genetic engineering is still illegal in the Federation, and we are now at your mercy.”

 

Deanna frowned. “Your people who left with us were not prosecuted in any way -- neither will anyone seeking refuge.”

“The commander will see that everyone is given quarters -- though it may be a tight fit,” Jean-Luc said. “We may have to ask people to share.”

“Aaron, please come with me,” Deanna said again. 

“There are numerous people attempting to use the communication system to find Mr. Connor,” deLio announced. 

“Let them know that they can find him in conference room four, on deck two,” Deanna said. She put a hand on his shoulder, and it was enough to get him going toward the lift. 

She intended to get him there and leave, to go to Yves, but people were already arriving as they reached the door -- when it became obvious that Aaron was trying to rally to address the hysteria and starting to crumble, she ordered them all to be silent, be seated, and silently appealed to Jean-Luc. Several of them were obviously leaders of the community and angrily demanding that she should return them all at once. It took him a few minutes for Jean-Luc to leave the bridge, and in that time five more people arrived, packing the conference room to its capacity of thirty five. 

“This is Captain Picard,” she said after he’d entered and everyone fell silent and glared, alarmed, at him. “He’ll explain your options, at this point. Your habitat is now gone.”

A tall woman came up out of the chair in an instant. “Gone? What do you mean? It can’t be gone! Aaron! You said that the damage would be repaired.”

Aaron stood in the center of the room, where he’d been turning around and around, helplessly. He started to shake his head.

“The damage to the dome exceeded what was reported,” Jean-Luc said sadly. “There was no way to reverse the collapse -- we barely had enough time to remove everyone before it fell. I’m sorry.”

“But there was only one breach,” another man exclaimed, and as several others leaped to their feet Jean-Luc held up both hands as if to fend them off, asking them to stop.

“Please remain calm,” he said loudly, over the murmuring that began, “please let me explain -- I can show you.” As he said it, he turned to look at Deanna -- once she’d caught his eye, she thought about the situation, all the people they had taken aboard, gestured at the door and he gave her the nod to go. They were all anxious, but just having someone calm and in charge was helping them. 

She left the room, and in the lift spent a moment checking the emotional atmosphere aboard, trying to focus and not lose herself in the high anxiety of the refugees from the habitat. Yves was still upset, but sleepy. Deanna directed the lift to cargo bay four, following her sense of where most of the anxiety was, and went to help the medical department with the overflow of frightened people.

\-----------------------

Picard came home quite late, and as tired as he usually was after wrestling verbally with hostile, fearful and thus irrational people for hours. He found Deanna on their bed, still fully dressed and curled up on her side facing away from him with her arms around Yves, in his little green pajamas and still wearing his slippers, spooned against her.

In the dimly-lit bedroom, he stood staring down at them. He supposed it must be the weariness at work, but he found it difficult to remove the jacket. While he fumbled with the uniform, he admired his wife -- in the light of the red-shifted starlight at warp, he smiled down at her, the long curls fanned around her head and the slight smile that always suggested to him that she knew some wonderful secret. It was, he thought, much better than coming in and falling into an empty bed, then waking up alone. Better still that it was Deanna, and there was no one he would rather see there.

When he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, she mumbled something indistinct, and he turned to look at her again. “Well, there you are,” he said softly.

Her eyes were serious as she turned her head toward him. “Everything all right?”

“We’ll be at starbase 220 in four hours. Starfleet is sending a dozen psychologists along. I sent messages to the twenty-three former members of the Genome Colony who left with us all those years ago, and some of them responded -- there are several already leaving to meet their friends at the starbase, to help them.”

“I’m glad,” she said faintly. “It’s going to be extremely difficult for these people to adjust, after being so focused on the project -- it was their life’s work, after all.”

“The counselors have most of them settled, and I think Ben is still with a handful of them.”

“Yes. The suicidal ones.”

He sat there in surprise, thinking about that. “It must be difficult having their life’s work ripped from them by fate. But given the state of that dome, how surprised they were by the end result, there couldn’t have been regular inspections let alone maintenance. How anyone living in an artificial environment could allow things to deteriorate that way….”

Deanna ran her hand down their sleeping son’s back, gently, thinking. “There were less than two thousand people in the colony, originally. That each person was so important to the bigger picture was made more obvious as time passed. They tried, but it was so difficult to convince people to cross train, to do tasks they weren’t intended to do -- I know, Jean-Luc, you view their goals as distasteful. But they believed in their goal of creating a peaceful society in which no one ever needed to question their purpose, no one suffered any doubt, and all of them worked together until our arrival led to questions. And as with you, and every other officer who leaves home for adventure, questions lead to exploration, which leads to answers. Sometimes their answer disagrees with the expectations of others. The colony struggled, because people struggled. Aaron told me before that they had no need of counselors. I suspect that he, like so many other people, misunderstood what a counselor is for.”

“Indeed.” He ran a hand down her hair. “My life would certainly be more complicated without one.”

“Or less complicated?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be true. I wouldn’t be in Starfleet.” Rolling onto the bed, he came to rest with his hand in the curve of her waist, after sliding it beneath her jacket and undershirt to come to rest against her skin. “I might have killed myself, in my self hatred and rage.”

“Aaron feels very much the same as you did post-assimilation, only without the physical traumas. He’s rudderless. The colony itself is gone now, and he’s losing hope that he’ll be able to re-establish it.”

“It sounds like you spoke to him recently?”

“You were on the bridge. I visited him before I came home, and took him to sickbay, where they sedated him and have him under watch. He’s not doing well.”

Picard sighed, his face in her hair as he curled himself around her and closed his eyes. “We should get some sleep.”

“Mmm hmm,” she agreed wearily. In minutes, she was breathing deeply, almost snoring. 

Picard listened to his son and his wife breathe, and smelled the light floral fragrance of her shampoo, and loved them -- it was obvious to him now, as it had never been in all the years preceding his decision to sit with Deanna in Ten Forward that evening two years ago, that he had never truly understood how empty his life had been before. He gazed up at the stars for a while, until his eyes drifted shut and he joined them in slumber.

\-------------------------

Deanna carried Yves down the corridor. She had sought Jean-Luc’s approval to take most of the day off, spend it with her little boy -- she had come home last night to find Yves awake and crying again, and because he’d spent so much of the day without her crying for her she felt so incredibly guilty that she couldn’t leave him again, at least for a little while. 

“Deck,” he exclaimed, pointing at a door -- he was wanting to go to the holodeck and wasn’t distinguishing between one door and another yet. 

“No, sweet little man, not yet. We’re going to see a friend of mine. We’ll go to the holodeck in a minute.”

“Mama,” he said with a pout, tugging at her sleeve.

She touched the panel next to the door of the suite and carried Yves in when the door opened. Aaron was pacing restlessly, but came to a halt and watched them approach. He’d removed stubble and mustache, replicated new clothing, but his eyes looked as haunted and his emotional state had improved very little. There was a new layer of emotion now, frustration and agitation, that concerned her.

“This is Yves. He’s feeling better today and I’m taking him to the holodeck. I thought you might like to join us, if you’re not busy.” She put the baby down on his feet, and let him cling to her skirt. Yves had his fingers in his mouth as he gazed up at Aaron with his usual suspicion of strangers. He sidled over to lean on her leg, letting go of her hand to tuck his arm around her knee. “Mama?”

“Hello, Yves,” Aaron said warmly. 

Yves leaned behind her leg, tucking himself into a fold of the dark blue dress she wore. 

“He’s shy,” Deanna said with a smile. “Until he gets to know you a little better. It’s just where he’s at developmentally -- I’ve been worried about you, Aaron. I know that you’ve been in despair.”

He stared now with some surprise. It reminded her that she’d never actually told him much about herself -- that she’d listened more than she’d talked, and then there had been no talking. 

“Aaron, I told you before that I am half Betazoid. I think I may have forgotten that you were raised in isolation, on the colony, and that meant nothing to you. Betazoids are telepathic, usually.”

“You mean you read my thoughts?”

“I’m half human. I’m an empath. My son will be as well, actually, and he’s already a little sensitive to my moods. I know you feel lost.” Bending, she picked up Yves again and balanced him on her right hip. He leaned in, turning his face against her chest. “I’ve helped people through similar major transitions before. My own captain lost his way, for a while. He felt the same.”

Aaron shook his head, walked around the room again slowly, spread his arms in surrender. “You didn’t tell me you weren’t human.”

“We didn’t talk about a lot of things, at the time. I suppose because I knew our time would be short and there were other things to focus on.” She hugged her little boy, who was still being shy and quiet. “Aaron… I know you said you were in love with me, before. But I knew that it was only a possibility. You didn’t even know me. There was no time to know me.”

“I thought about you for a long, long time,” he said as he continued to pace, turning away from her and stopping in front of the replicator. “Computer, tea.”

“There are six thousand five hundred forty-nine varieties of tea -- please specify,” the computer stated serenely. 

Aaron gave a dry chuckle, at that. “I suppose there could be that many now.”

“It includes teas from other worlds, actually, some of which are made in ways that don’t involve leaves or steeping. Computer, two cups of Earl Grey, hot.”

Two cups materialized, and he brought them to her, handing her one of them. She sipped, testing the temperature -- the computer always made Earl Grey to Jean-Luc’s favored temperature -- and offered it to Yves, letting him take a tiny sip. 

“Papa,” he murmured, smiling and burrowing against her again.

“Yes, it’s Papa’s favorite, isn’t it?” She took another sip herself and watched Aaron try it. 

“We had a few varieties in the greenhouses, but not this one,” he murmured. “It’s quite strong.”

“The people who left with us so many years ago have responded to the captain’s attempt to reach them -- most of them are coming to help,” she said. “They want to assist all of you in sorting out what you’re going to do next. The captain also contacted Starfleet Command to consult -- there may be a colony for you.”

Aaron gazed at her over the top of his cup. “They’re coming? They’re still alive?”

“Of course. They all went to Earth, and after spending some time exploring their options, most found a place to settle. Some of them joined Starfleet. Several of them went to universities. Many have families, now. You could all do the same. There are so many worlds you could visit, so many things you could do.”

“You need to understand, Deanna, that most of us are heartbroken -- “

“Aaron,” she interrupted softly, stroking Yves’ short black curls. She’d put her cup on the table, half empty. “I know that you are, and several of the others who were leaders in the community. But there is also a feeling of relief from many of your people. It was frightening to be in the failing habitat. Some of them also feel hope, and even happiness. You told me that it was very difficult after those twenty three departed -- so many of them struggled. They don’t have to any longer. The Federation will accept them.”

He gazed at the floor, then his eyes swept up -- he looked around at the walls, at the painting over the sofa, at the vase on the end table. He sipped his tea and looked again at her with a brittle smile. “There’s nothing left for me, Deanna. I have nothing.”

She remembered, and mirrored the brittle smile. “Captain Picard said something similar when he was recovering from severe, debilitating injuries. He felt very much the same as you do now. Feelings are poor guides in such matters. They can keep you from seeing the future for the possibilities that it offers.”

“This ship is your home,” he said wistfully. “When I sent the message requesting help… there was a tiny part of me that still hoped you might take me in, to try.... If there was nothing to be done -- we didn’t tell the population how bad the damage really was, trying to keep everyone from panicking, but I think I knew well before you arrived that we would have to leave. It was actually much worse even than I imagined. We know well enough what it takes to maintain the habitat -- we knew we weren’t being careful enough.”

Deanna swayed, reassuring Yves, who felt increasingly unsettled. “Aaron, you realize I think that it wouldn’t be possible to be with me.”

“I do -- you have a family. I thought it was quite likely, in fact. So there is no place in the universe for me, a failed leader from a failed colony founded two centuries ago -- there were three people before me who led without incident, and then I failed to live up to their example, failed to protect my people -- “

“Aaron,” she exclaimed impatiently. Caught herself, set her jaw, tilted her head, took a breath. “Aaron. There is no way that anyone could have predicted the series of events that led to your colony’s failure. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my responsi -- “

“You are being irrational,” Deanna exclaimed. Yves grabbed handfuls of her dress and clung like a monkey, whimpering a little. 

Aaron stared at her as if she’d threatened him. 

“We came to invite you to the holodeck with us,” she went on, less stern than before. “Would you like to come?”

“You’ve changed,” he said faintly.

“That’s the nature of life. We are all able to change. I was a counselor, I always believed in change. I’ve seen great changes in people.”

“What is a holodeck?”

Deanna smiled. Yves wriggled and said “deck” softly, leaning, and she put him on his feet. “It’s one of his favorite places -- come on, we’ll show you.”

“What made you decide to stop being a counselor?”

Deanna held Yves’ hand and let the little boy walk slowly ahead of her as they left the quarters. When he started to wobble, she picked him up again, Aaron coming alongside her as they headed down the corridor toward the lift. “I realized that my life was changing, and that I had changed. I felt the desire to grow, push past what I’d done before, to be an officer more than just a listener. I realized that the only limitation on me was what I believed about myself and chose to believe something else. And I fell in love with an idealistic man who was happy to support those goals.”

“What’s his name?”

They went in the lift. “Holodeck two,” she said, and the computer put the car into motion. 

“Deck,” Yves blurted, chewing on his fingers.

“Yes, we’re going to the holodeck,” she said with a smile, bouncing him a little. “Your papa will be there.”

“Papa!” He threw himself forward, and she had to adjust her hold on him to avoid being head-butted in the chin. 

“He looks like you, except the eyes,” Aaron said. Regret went unspoken, and there was a weary sort of acceptance.

“His father’s eyes. He’ll probably look more like papa as he gets older.” No sense in opening discussion about time travel and all its surprises, to explain how she knew that. 

“This holodeck, what does it do, that a baby is so excited about it?” Aaron asked as he followed her from the lift.

“You’ll see in just a few seconds,” she said, striding toward the nearest holodeck as the doors sighed open. The simulation was already in progress -- they stopped on a green hill overlooking the city of San Francisco, and below them stretched the Golden Gate. Aaron stared, and Yves squealed and wiggled -- she had to put him down on the grass before he got away from her and fell. He took two steps, plopped forward on his hands and knees, and crawled off at full impulse toward Jean-Luc, who was approaching.

“San Francisco is a city on Earth,” she explained to Aaron, turning to him. “The holodeck is a sophisticated projection room that can emulate any location we program into it -- the holographic matrix adjusts around us as we move around. We can go horseback riding, if we want. We can walk across the city and it will appear as if we are really there.”

Jean-Luc joined them, now holding the happy baby in his arms and enduring Yves’ bout of happy squealing and grabbing at his uniform. When Yves started picking at the pips, Deanna automatically stepped in to remove them from Jean-Luc’s collar and keep them in hand rather than go through another frantic trip to sickbay with them in their son’s stomach.

Aaron had stopped goggling at the simulation, and now looked at them soberly. When Deanna turned to him, he gave her a sad little smile that acknowledged that he understood.

“I brought your fellow community leaders here in the hopes of helping them understand some of their options,” Jean-Luc said. He glanced down the gently-sloping hill at a group of people standing there. “This is the third city I’ve shown them. I was going to show them next several of the colony worlds that Admiral Nelson suggested as possibilities for your resettlement, if you are all amenable to becoming citizens of the Federation. If you decide that is not to your liking, there are other options that we can show you.”

Aaron gazed down at his friends and neighbors for a moment. Deanna knew they were all still in a state of high anxiety, and still reeling from the loss of their colony, but they were showing interest and feeling more hopeful. 

“Thank you, Captain, I’ll join them. I think considering all possible options before deciding would be best, as you suggest.” 

Deanna watched Aaron head down the hill, then turned to her husband. “It’s going to be okay.”

Jean-Luc smiled, raised his left hand to caress her cheek in an unusual public display of affection, and then offered her the arm. She took it and they went down to talk to their guests about what they might do about the future of their colony.

\------------------------

“Tom,” Picard called out. 

Tom Glendenning’s blond head turned, and the easy grin and a wave of a hand followed -- he spun and wove through the foot traffic in the broad corridor of starbase 220’s commercial deck, and came to him holding a hand out. “Hey, good to see you,” Tom exclaimed as they shook hands firmly.

“What the hell are you doing here? The last time we spoke you were somewhere out on the Neutral Zone.”

Tom waved both hands dismissively. “Well, you know how it is. You go here, you get told go there, you go there. Admirals -- if it made sense, we’d all give up the pips, eh?”

“How’s Beverly? Lora?” They strolled along together toward nothing in particular. 

“Doing great -- I’ll have to ask you over for dinner, just so they can ask you all the nosy questions themselves. Is Yves a lieutenant yet?” 

Picard chuckled at that. “We should get a drink.”

Tom nodded. “I know just the place. Down there at the other end, next to the Mexican place. So you here because of an admiral too?”

“You could say that -- I brought some refugees, from a colony whose artificial habitat suffered irreparable damage. We’ll be leaving by the end of the day to take the ship for a few days on Risa, the crew deserves it.”

“What colony?”

“Genome Colony.”

Tom frowned, as he leaned and put his hands on his hips while they idled along and the pedestrians parted around them. “Never heard of them.”

“It wasn’t a Federation colony. It was one of those expeditions that took off from Earth a couple of centuries ago, to found a colony in order to pursue the perfection that can be had through genetic engineering.”

“Ah -- and you do not approve of such a pursuit,” Tom said.

“Humanity has always made best progress without artificial tinkering -- that tends to go awry,” Picard exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I guess the species we run into who play around with their own genetics do tend to prove that.” Tom smirked and swaggered a little. “We fine examples of non-selective breeding exemplify the best of the natural, yes?”

“I do appreciate your humility, Tom. It’s so refreshingly honest.”

Tom laughed loudly at him. They reached the Mexican restaurant, and Picard saw Aaron Connor, of all people, standing across from the restaurant in front of a store of ambiguous purpose, looking at the items in the front window. 

“What’s up?” Tom asked when he hesitated. 

“Just a minute.” Picard went across the corridor and stopped at Connor’s side. “Aaron?”

The man’s head jerked -- he hadn’t heard him. “Oh, hello. I’m sorry -- it’s….”

“Overwhelming?” Picard glanced at the array of items in the window. “This is a music store. Those are instruments from several worlds.”

Aaron’s eyes followed a pedestrian -- a Bolian, who gave them a suspicious look and scurried away. “Overwhelming isn’t the word. My people have all been given rooms, several decks above. It was suggested that we all stay there, for a while, and not try to explore too much at first -- of course I had to assume it would be like the ship, contained and predictable.” There was a slightly manic quality to him, a wide-eyed look that suggested he might be on the verge of breaking down. 

“Why don’t you come with us?”

Aaron blinked. It seemed to ground him a little. “I should go back to my quarters, but thank you.”

“We’ll come to say good-bye, before we depart -- Deanna will want to see you off.”

There was an odd quality to Aaron’s smile at that. He’d been friendly, and they had over the past couple of days had a number of conversations that led Picard to conclude what he had assumed before, that Aaron Connor was as intelligent and genial as one would expect the genetically-perfected leader of a colony to be. But he seemed incomplete, in some ways. He seemed, for example, to be naive about the more complex aspects of relationships. Deanna had said that his time as the leader of the colony had been spent wholly on that task. It struck a chord with Picard -- reminded him of his own singular career and all that determination to be an officer attached to no one.

“Come have a drink,” Picard said before he thought about it much. “Before you go up.”

“Hey, Jean-Luc, what’s the hold up?” Tom called out. “C’mon already.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Aaron exclaimed at once. “But thank you. I’ll be all right.”

“Well. You know how to reach us, if need anything.” Picard nodded, smiling, and turned to rejoin Tom. “That’s one of the colonists,” he explained as they stepped off toward the restaurant around the corner. 

“Always with the rescuing people,” Tom exclaimed, waving his hand around dramatically as he usually did. “Silly captain.”

“Not certain why you’re complaining, since I saved your ass more than once.”

“Not complaining,” Tom said with a smirk as they entered the restaurant and waved at the host. “Hey, man, you have a private room in this joint?”

The host gestured for them to follow and so they did. He opened the door, waved them through, and closed it behind them. Which was odd, as the room inside was pitch dark, not a light to be seen. The brief light of the open door wasn’t even enough to give him an idea of what was inside.

“Tom?”

“Lights,” Tom shouted, and they came on -- and a room full of people shouted SURPRISE.

 

And then, to his shock and dismay, and then embarrassment, and then gradually his pleasure, Picard found himself hugged and cuffed and kissed on the cheek and taken by the hand, and smiled at repeatedly, and then gifts were offered. He was installed in a seat at the head of the table with his wife on his left hand, with their son in her lap -- Yves loved to watch him unwrapping things as he was the beneficiary of ribbons and bows. Data gave him a book, Beverly gave him a large empty picture frame that turned out to be a digital frame dedicated to displaying a series of stored images, Tom gave him a bottle of something strong and alcoholic, Natalia had given him a board game that reminded him of kal-toh, and there were a series of presents from his senior officers, except for Deanna.

She gave him a wicked, amused smile when he commented on that. “I left it at home,” she said lightly. Tom chuckled and elbowed Data knowingly; Beverly shot him a look that only somewhat diminished his amusement.

“We know you don’t like big parties,” Ward Carlisle said, sitting with his arm around Cecily. “But we thought if we got it off the ship -- “

“No, no,” Picard said, holding up his hands. “I want to thank you, all of you.” He looked around the room at the smiling faces of his friends, and tried to think of something to say. But words seemed inadequate. He glanced at Deanna, whose expression had gone soft and a little teary-eyed, and smiled. Nodding, he took another look around the room.

“What he wants to say is that this is perfect,” Tom said, grinning down the table from the other end, where he sat between Beverly and Data.

“Yes,” Picard agreed at once. “It really is.” He snatched up the wine glass in front of him, and stood. Everyone else around the long, long table, deLio, Ben Davidson and his date -- was that Lieutenant Lovelace? -- the rest of his senior officers, his friends, all stood with him and raised their glasses. 

“To perfection,” he exclaimed, raising his glass of burgundy. 

“To us,” Tom countered, raising his.

Picard looked around the room as he joined them in sipping, and nodded to Deanna. Her smile and happy eyes were the best present he’d ever gotten.

“Best birthday ever,” he said, just for her.


End file.
